


a favor

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Appendicitis, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hospitals, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Religious Discussion, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14816052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: John sits up quickly, startling himself. He listens in the quiet for a moment, tuning the city sounds out, and he becomes acutely aware of the sound of crying coming from inside the apartment.





	a favor

John wakes up suddenly; he blinks a few times, still sleepy, unsure of why he’s awake. He rolls over and checks his phone; it’s half past one in the morning. He groans and sets it back down on the nightstand and rolls over to stare up at the ceiling. He still feels tired, his eyes ache and his body is heavy with fatigue, but the thought of going back to sleep doesn’t sit well with him.

His room is dark, and the only sound he can hear is his own breathing. The city supplies its own sounds outside his window, and John focuses on them for a moment, staring at the window in his room. The curtains are drawn, but along their edges John can see the faint glow that comes from the city lights. For a moment he thinks about his room in South Carolina, where if he were to wake up in the middle of the night, the only thing he would hear is silence. Now he always hears the sound of cars, a plane or helicopter in the sky, somewhere a distant siren, and… crying.

John sits up quickly, startling himself. He listens in the quiet for a moment, tuning the city sounds out, and he becomes acutely aware of the sound of crying coming from inside the apartment. He pushes his blanket off and stands and struggles for a moment to find the door in the dark. His hand stays on the wall in the hall to guide him and then he pushes the door to his daughter’s room open.

“Frances?” he asks quietly, and she whimpers.

He rushes towards her, blind to everything else, and kneels next to her bed, “Frances?” he repeats, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She doesn’t answer, she just continues crying, harder now. He reaches over and turns her bedside lamp on. She’s curled up in the fetal position, her arms clutching her stomach, her blanket kicked off of her; her face is blotchy from crying and soaking wet with tears. Fear settles in the form of a lump in his throat at the sight of her, but she’s too distressed for him to add to it, so he swallows it down.

“Frances.” he repeats, trying to keep his voice steady so he doesn’t scare her, “What’s wrong?”

She inhales sharply and winces, “Hurts.” she manages to sob.

“What hurts?” John asks.

Frances jerks her head down, pressing her chin to her chest; she sobs a few times, nodding her head vaguely to the right. John is about to ask her again, when she suddenly moves one of her hands away from her stomach to point at her side, “Here.” she whimpers.

He leans over and pushes her shirt up slightly to see where she’s pointing, “Here?” he asks, resting his hand there lightly. She nods frantically, “How bad?”

“Bad.” Frances says immediately.

“On a scale of one to ten?” John asks.

Frances considers for a moment, still crying, “Eight.”

“Okay.” John says; he takes his hand away from the spot. There’s nothing on her skin, no redness and certainly no injury, “On the inside, right?”

Frances whimpers, which he assumes means yes, “Okay.” he says again, “Frances?” he asks. Her eyes are screwed shut, tears still leaking down her face, “Frances?” he repeats, and she opens her eyes to look at him, “Frances, it’s going to be okay, okay?” he tells her.

“Hurts.” Frances says again.

“I know it hurts.” John says, “But it’s gonna be okay, okay? Right now just focus on staying calm.”

Frances starts to protest, but John shushes her gently, “I know it’s scary, it hurts and it’s scary, but it will help if you try to stay calm, okay? Frances? Can you do that for me?”

Frances nods, and John reaches up and pushes her hair out of her face; it takes him a few tries because it wants to stick to the wet patches. He places his hand gently on her shoulder, “I’m going to go get my phone and my keys, and put jeans and shoes on, and then I’m going to come back and get you and take you to the car, okay?”

Frances nods again, and he leans forward and kisses her on the forehead. She feels hot, which only serves to make him more anxious. He does what he said he was going to do as quickly as he can, and then he comes back in her room. “Can you stand?” he asks gently, and Frances shakes her head, “Can you try?”

“I already did.” Frances says, her voice scratchy “When I woke up. Wanted to wake you but I couldn’t get up. Hurts.”

After careful consideration of where it hurts the most, John manages to pick her up and carry her down to the car. Once she’s seated in the passenger seat and he in the driver's seat, he ties her hair into a ponytail and tells her again she’s going to be okay, even though he’s not quite so sure he believes the words himself.

…

It’s ten past two in the morning, and Frances is diagnosed with appendicitis.

She stares at her dad when they get left alone, “Does that mean I have to get surgery?”

John looks down at her and hesitates, “Yeah.”

Frances immediately seizes up with fear, her eyes wide; John hurriedly sits down in the chair next to her, “It’s not bad.” he promises.

“Do I have to?” she asks, her voice high.

John hesitates, “Yes?”

She starts to cry again, and he immediately feels terrible, “Frances,” he says gently, “Frances, I promise surgery isn’t that bad. I swear. I’ve had it three times. It’s totally easy, you don’t even have to do anything.”

Frances laughs through her tears, and then she winces because it doesn’t feel good to laugh right now. She reaches up and wipes her face, “They’re gonna cut me open.”

“You’ll be numb.” John says, and then adds, when she looks at him in horror, “And asleep! Numb and asleep. You’ll be asleep.”

Frances looks down, blinking rapidly; a few tears roll down her face. John reaches over and tilts her chin gently to look at him, “Hey?” he says, his voice soft, “It’s okay. Surgery is totally cool, all the kids are doing it.”

Frances bites her lip, grinning, but she still looks scared, so John says, “You’re not even gonna know it’s happening.” she looks at him skeptically, “I’m serious! You’re gonna fall asleep and wake up and it’ll be done. Trust me, I’ve done it three times. And I’m not dead yet.”

Frances hesitates, then she says, “Not dead, just an idiot.”

“Ooh,” John says, wincing dramatically, “I’m dead  _ now _ . She’s still joking through the fear.”

Frances looks away, “I’m not scared.” she says softly.

“Hey.” John says, and she looks back at him out of the corner of her eye, “I know you like acting tough, but you don’t have to.” he says, “It’s okay if you’re scared.”

Frances is quiet for a moment, then she says, “What if something goes wrong?”

The thought makes John’s blood run cold, but he doesn’t show it, “Nothing’s going to go wrong.” he promises her.

“How do you know?” Frances asks.

“Because I know.” John says, “I’m calling in a favor with God himself right now.”

Frances grins, “What did  _ you  _ do that God owes you a favor?”

John raises his eyebrows, “You got me there.” he says, “Let’s be honest, I owe him a favor.”

“What did God do to earn a favor from you?” Frances asks, still grinning.

“He gave me you.” John says softly.

…

It’s nearly three when John gets left alone waiting for Frances. He wants to call Charles, but he knows he’s definitely still asleep, and waking him means waking his dogs and John doesn’t want him to have to deal with that right now. He texts him instead to call him when he wakes up.

John spends a few moments sitting in silence, but he doesn’t like that because it leaves his mind with too many places to wander. 

John thinks about going back to the apartment, because he knows Frances is going to eventually want her phone when she wakes up, and John wants to have it for her when she asks. He’d also like her to have clothes and shoes she can leave the hospital in, but the idea of leaving now doesn’t sit well with him.

He shifts in his chair and stares out the window; it’s still dark outside, but there are plenty of lights on, especially in the distant city. He drums his fingers on the side of the chair for a moment, then he looks down at his phone and thinks for a moment.

He sends Alex a text:  _ are you awake? If you are call me. _

John feels stupid as soon as he sends it, but after a quick moment of feeling dumb Alex calls him. John sits up in his chair, his heart leaping in his chest, and he picks up the phone, “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asks immediately.

“ _ I’m  _ fine.” John says, “I don’t think I need to ask why you’re awake at three in the morning.”

Alex huffs, “We’re slammed at work.” he explains, “And we’re still trying to find a good person to replace fucking Charles Lee, who was terrible anyways, but we haven’t found anyone good yet so we’ve got temps but they’re, like,  _ babies,  _ so I have to - ” he stops suddenly, “Wait, why are  _ you _ awake at three in the morning? Why am I calling you?”

John is grinning, despite the fact that during his digression Alex managed to badmouth his boyfriend. He doesn’t know he’s his boyfriend, though, so John will let it slide, “I’m at the hospital.”

“Are you okay?!” Alex asks frantically.

“ _ I’m  _ fine.” John says, “I had more to say. I’m here for Frances.”

“Is  _ she  _ okay?!” Alex asks, the same tone of panic in his voice.

“She…” John says slowly, “Has appendicitis?”

“Appendicitis?” Alex repeats, “Like - like when your appendix explodes?!”

“It didn’t  _ explode.”  _ John says, “When you have appendicitis it doesn’t just explode, it hurts first and if you don’t take care of it  _ then  _ it can explode. Don’t tell her that I said that.”

“Oh, my God.” Alex says quietly, “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” John starts to say.

“You don’t know?!” Alex yelps, “How can you not know?! Ask someone!”

“I would.” John says, “She’s in surgery right now.”

“She - !” John hears Alex set his phone down, and he waits until he picks it back up, “It is three in the goddamn morning, John.”

“It’s like that when you have to get emergency surgery.” John says.

“How are you not actually dying?” Alex asks.

“I’m not sure.” John says lightly, “I was kind of putting on a brave face for her, but now she’s gone and I don’t know if I’ve necessarily processed that my daughter is in surgery.” he pauses, “My daughter is in surgery.” he repeats.

“Are you processing now?” Alex asks nervously.

John slumps back down in his chair, “Just thinking about how scared I was when I had surgery for the first time and I was  _ older  _ than she is right now and I  _ knew  _ it was coming and she just woke up in the middle of the night crying and two hours later she’s like ‘well I’m having surgery now I guess’ oh, my God,” John covers his face with his free hand, “Oh, my  _ God  _ she’s probably freaking out.”

“She’s probably asleep, now.” Alex corrects.

“ _ I’m  _ freaking out!” John says, “Where do they even make the incision when they remove your appendix?! Why didn’t I ask that?! Why am I so stupid?! What are they doing to my daughter?!”

“What were you doing instead of asking questions?” Alex asks.

“I was trying to calm her down.” John says, “She was basically in hysterics when she woke me up, and when she found out she had to get surgery she almost slipped back into that and I was trying to keep that from happening.”

“Well, at least you were being a good dad instead of asking questions.” Alex says.

“I could’ve been a good dad  _ by  _ asking questions.” John mutters.

“Well, at least you were being a good dad.” Alex says firmly, “The incision is made on the lower right side of your abdomen.”

“What?” John asks.

“The incision.” Alex says, “For getting your appendix removed? You were wondering where it’s made. Lower right side of your abdomen. I looked it up.”

“Oh.” John says, and his heart feels warm, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Alex says happily, “Anything else you want me to look up? While I’m here?”

John hesitates, “Survival rate?”

Alex chuckles, “Seems a little extreme.”

“Please?” John asks, “If I look it up myself I’m gonna find some story about some girl who died while getting her appendix removed in a freak accident and I’m going to start having heart palpitations.”

“ _ Risk Factors for Adverse Outcomes After the Surgical Treatment of Appendicitis in Adults _ .” Alex reads to John.

“Frances isn’t an adult, she’s sixteen.” John argues.

Alex huffs, “I don’t know that many teens get appendicitis, John.” he says, then starts to read, “ _ There has been a dramatic reduction in the mortality rate attributed to acute appendicitis over the past 50 years from nearly twenty six percent to less than one percent  _ \- I think she’s safe, John.”

John sighs, “I guess I’ll listen to you. It’s better than freaking myself out.”

“Well, I think we both know I’m very smart, so you can trust me.” Alex says confidently, “Also, I think you should try to get some sleep.”

“I feel like I should be telling you that.” John says, “Maybe you should go get in bed with your wife? Just a suggestion.”

Alex hums, “Yeah I’ll do that.” he says, “I’ll check on the kids and then I’ll do that.”

“Oh, hey, do me a favor?” John asks, “Don’t mention this to Philip. Frances is probably gonna want to tell her friends herself.”

“Will do.” Alex says, “Try to get some sleep.”

“The same to you.” John says, and Alex laughs and hangs up.

John does his best to sleep, but achieving anything beyond dozing while sitting in a chair at the hospital, knowing his daughter is in surgery, proves to be impossible. At one point, he’s just enough asleep to dream; he’s still in the hospital room. He tries to leave the room, but a doctor he recognizes from South Carolina stops him and stabs him in the chest with a scalpel. John wakes up anxious.

…

The sun is starting to come up; John is brushing his daughter’s hair out of her face. She’s still asleep; it didn’t take as long as he thought it would. He’s happy she’s getting the opportunity to rest; the entire day leading up to this she had been going back and forth from her room and the living room restlessly once she’d gotten home from school, and she didn’t go to bed until John finally made her leave the living room. Now he thinks he understands why she was being so restless.

Charles calls him while John is dozing again, although this time he’s getting closer to actually falling asleep as he’s sitting closer to his daughter’s bed. It startles him awake, and he checks on her again before answering the phone.

He has to re explain the situation to Charles, although he’s glad now that he can explain it calmer since Frances is out of surgery. Charles gets nervous anyways, and John asks that if he  _ insists  _ he do something to help, he go by their apartment and get Frances’ phone and both their chargers.

“I told them I was your brother, hospitals are so trusting.” Charles says when he comes to drop the things off for John.

John rolls his eyes, “Great, now I can’t kiss you, lest someone see us.” 

They’re standing just outside of Frances’ room; John doesn’t want her to see Charles, on the account that she doesn't know who he is. “Is she okay?” Charles asks; he’s never met her, but she’s one of the only things John talks about.

“Yes,” John says, “If she wasn’t, I would be crying right now.”

“You kind of look like you need to cry.” Charles tells him, “But maybe that’s just how you usually look?”

“Haha.” John says dryly, “I’ll do it later, it makes her upset when I cry. Thank you for bringing these.”

“Will you risk a kiss?” Charles asks, leaning forward; John rolls his eyes and gives him a quick peck on the lips.

“Will you tell Lauren I’m not going to be in today?” he asks, “Tomorrow, too, probably. I don’t really know about Friday yet.”

“Would you like me to mention the daughter with appendicitis?” Charles asks, “Or is that on a need to know basis?”

“I mean, if she asks.” John says, “Which she probably will, since she’s my boss and it’s my reason for not coming in to work.”

“What should I tell Katherine when she inevitably asks about you?” Charles asks, in reference to a coworker who has asked John on a date several times.

“Remind her that I’m gay,” he says, “and don’t give her details about Frances, I don’t want her to have a leg up with knowledge about my personal life.”

Charles leaves after managing to get another kiss out of John, which he gave pretty happily, anyways. When he goes back in the room, Frances is still asleep. He sits next to her bed and ends up dozing again, on the account that’s he’s gotten maybe three hours of sleep.

Frances wakes up around seven thirty, which wakes John up, “Did I live?” she asks.

“Yes.” John tells her, “It barely took an hour.”

“What time is it?” Frances asks, aware of the sun being up.

“A little after seven.” John tells her.

Frances looks down and touches the lower part of her stomach, “It’s numb.” she says.

“Is it?” John asks, “I haven’t had surgery since you were, like, four. I forgot about being numb.”

“It feels weird.” Frances says, “Like, you never think about your stomach, but now that it’s numb it’s weird.”

John hums, “I got you your phone.” he says.

“Did you leave?” Frances asks, looking up at him.

“No,” John reassures her quickly, “I didn’t leave. Uh, Alex brought it by.”

Frances relaxes, “Can I see it?”

John hands her her phone. She takes a picture of herself in the hospital bed and posts it on her finsta with the caption  _ ‘my appendix tried to kill me but i lived bitch.’ _

“What are you doing?” John asks.

“Nothing.” Frances says, “Just, uh, telling my friends I almost died.”

“You didn’t almost die.” John says.

“Um, my appendix tried to explode.” Frances argues, “That sounds like almost dying to me.”

“You would not have died if it had exploded.” John tells her, “The surgery just would’ve taken longer.”

Frances looks back down at her phone, “Sure felt like I was dying.”

John softens a little bit, “I’m sorry.” he says, “On the bright side, you don’t have to go to school.”

Frances grins, “That is good.” she says, “I had project due on Friday that I haven’t even started yet.”

“Interesting.” John says, “Maybe you should do that.”

“Sorry, I just had surgery.” Frances says.

John stares at her for a moment, “You sound exactly like me when I was in high school, and that scares and infuriates me.” he says, “But since you  _ did  _ just have surgery, I’ll let you off easy.”

Frances beams at him, and he grins back softly, “So how was your first surgery anyways?”

“First?” Frances asks, “Was that an omen? Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I mean, when I was twenty-five and I got my wisdom teeth out, I thought I was done with surgery forever, but then I got pregnant and I decided I didn’t want that to happen again.” John tells her, “Plus you never know if like, you have to get a hip replaced or something.”

“Have you had a hip replacement?” Frances asks skeptically, smiling.

“I have not.” John says, “I’m only forty-five.”

“Seems old enough to need a hip replacement.” Frances tells him.

“There is nothing  _ wrong  _ with my legs.” John argues.

“I will kick your leg and it will break.” Frances declares.

“Please do not.” John says, “I carried you to the car and drove you here.”

“Oh, yeah.” Frances says, “You did carry me. How did you do that?”

“Ancient secret.” John says, “I can’t tell you or I have to kill you.”

“What are you? My appendix?” Frances asks, and John laughs.


End file.
